


The Grandfather Clause

by skywaterblue



Series: Josh Lyman Mutantverse Fics [3]
Category: West Wing, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Mutant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-07
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywaterblue/pseuds/skywaterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh Lyman is sent to discover why Senator Kelly's stance on the Mutant Registration Act has suddenly shifted, various secrets are revealed, and ghosts from the past haunt the living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Voodoo Economics

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired and written for Paula. I am indebted to those who walked before me, especially for Kielle, who created the concept of TCP stories and was one of the guiding lights of fandom ages ago. Fandom was a kinder, gentler place for her presence and she is sorely missed. I also thank Renata, for her fantastic story, [](http:)The Blessings of Liberty. I wouldn't even have tried to do this crossover if she hadn't already paved the way and shown it was possible.
> 
> Set in late Season Four of The West Wing, after "Inauguration pt.2" but before Hoynes' resignation, and in some variant of the movieverse between X-Men and X2. Yes, I know that Magneto has canon children and grandchildren in the main Marvelverse comics.

7:19 AM  
The White House

By seven in the morning, the main foyer of the West Wing was already bustling with activity, as the coffee began to settle in and staffers began to hustle with animated industry to work on the issues of the day. Josh Lyman passed through them, shifting his backpack on his shoulder and wishing that that fall would finally arrive, bringing with it relief from the tepid and muggy atmosphere of the district. 'Built on a goddamn swamp,' he thought irritably.

"Well, you're in a chipper mood this morning," the familiar tone of Donnatella Moss chirruped as she appeared out of nowhere to fall in step alongside her boss. She hummed with her usual energy, projecting warm feelings. He was sure that'd wear off by noon.

Josh turned to regard her with suspicion. "How do you do that?"

"I told you, I'm attuned to you. I could feel your negative hoojoo half a mile away."

He looked at her and frowned. "I think the word you're looking for is 'voodoo', which it isn't, and I'm not."

Donna snorted, "Hoojoo is a word."

"If you're from the Bayou," Josh retorted, as he passed through the double doors into the Bullpen, territory of the policy wonks. His domain, if you would. Everything felt comfortably frenetic, as it should, magnified by the noise of the copiers and the chatter of half a dozen morning news anchors.

Donna rolled her eyes as he flopped his backpack into the computer chair in his office. "Whatever. So, what's wrong with you? It's a beautiful morning, the sun is shining, the birds are singing..."

"...the air conditioning is broken," he finished, in the same sing-song she had been using. "Again. Third time this year, Donna. Do you have any idea how much money I pay for that place?"

She flipped through the folders in her arms, "More than you pay me." Two blue folders flopped onto his desk with a slight thud. "I'll call the super for you. You have Senior Staff in ten minutes. Commerce is coming by at nine to talk about the internet access initiative and you need to read these memos before you take that meeting. The post-its mark the charts and graphs in case you run out of time and need to skim. You're meeting Davidson at noon at Morton's to talk about organic food regulation, and Skinner at four about bipartisan support on the omnibus transportation thing. Carrick called, he wants a meeting with you about the Marine Mammals Protection Act at two, and Toby and CJ need to see you as soon as humanly possible."

He considered, "Schedule Carrick for tomorrow -- or better yet, see if you can faff it off on Will's desk. He wants to bitch about the Navy's new sonar device being held up. What did Toby and CJ want?" He grabbed the manila folder with his information for Senior Staff, and the blue folders Donna had ever so graciously dropped on his desk, then turned around and started for the door.

Donna followed right behind him, stopping at the entrance to her cubicle. "CJ said it had to do with Senator Kelly and CSPAN."

"Ahkay," Josh called back to her, trotting down the hall to CJ's office. Empty. He made a sharp left, past the press room and out to the lobby, then through to the Communications Department. He felt them before he spotted them, a dark roil of tension that was typically Toby, with CJ compressing her strong anxious ripples. They made his stomach flutter. As he got closer, he also picked up on a deep undercurrent of concern.

Both of his colleagues were in Toby's office, Toby behind his desk and CJ leaning against it, television remote in her hand.

"Donna said you guys were looking for me?" He asked.

Toby scratched at his beard, tapping a ballpoint pen against a yellow legal pad. CJ, however, launched right in, "What do you know about a speech that Senator Kelly is going to be giving today in front of the Joint Committee for Mutant Rights?"

"About the Registration Act?" Josh asked, confused. "They've been eating up floor time on that for months, ever since the thing."

CJ twisted in place to look at Toby. He started, rubbing his forehead, "There's... there's a rumor -- "

She spun back, her hand flying up to forestall him from freaking out. Josh swallowed and decided to try and hear them out before launching into a panic. "Not that kind," she picked up from Toby. "There's a rumor that he's going to do something big today."

He looked from CJ's eyes to Toby's. "It's not going to get out of committee. Lawson's the deciding vote, I just met with him yesterday. Half his agenda comes from us feeding him enough pork to open an IHOP so it'll stay that way. Trust me on this." His confidence tamped down some of the more rampant emotions. "Why are you guys so worried about this anyway? Senator Kelly's practically got Friends of Humanity membership tattooed on his ass-- so does half of Congress. What's one more speech?"

CJ looked at her watch, and then flipped through the channels. "Fox is going to cover it live."

"So? They've been covering a lot of this stuff."

Toby harrumphed, "It was dying down. Finally. Months and months of the message getting sidetracked by this -- we were finally getting back to actually governing."

"Mutants are good ratings. Nothing makes the average American turn into the local news more than footage of an angry youth running around Topeka setting things on fire with his hands. The budget negotiations, our foreign policy in China, the peacekeeping mission in Kundu -- all of these issues, I assure you, have a bigger effect on their lives than that kid in Topeka -- "

" -- Yeah," Josh cut her off. "I get it, CJ."

Toby stood up, gathering a pile of things from his inbox, "We're taking it to Leo."

***

" -- what else?" Leo asked, unfolding a piece of message paper that Margaret had just handed him. He looked up at her over his glasses, "In half an hour." The perky redhead nodded and left the room silently.

Toby glowered from the leather couch. "The Argentina -- "

"No. He's got a full load today Toby, and that can sit for another week. Anything else?"

From the couch, Toby looked at CJ. CJ flicked a quick look at him, hands folding on top of her clipboard. "There's a rumor going around... No, hear us out on this, that Senator Kelly's going to give some sort of barnstormer today on the floor on the Registration Act."

Leo sighed, annoyed, "We get about three of those a week, CJ. It's enough to make me think that the gag rule had a lot of merit and wisdom. So what?"

"This one's different. Live coverage on Fox."

"They all get live coverage on Fox, Toby." Leo retorted, "It's more interesting than budget negotiations on the importation of shrimp."

"Well, I think what Toby and I are trying to say, is that -- we've spent all summer debating the Mutant issue, and it gets us nowhere. It's not that it's not the right fight, but the country isn't ready to ready to move on it. Meanwhile, the issues that we can move forward languish on the bottom of the third page of the Post, because every time someone goes out there, the questions aren't about Argentina or shrimp. They're about the administration clinging to a contrarian position and holding back legislation that seventy five percent of Americans want to see passed."

Josh looked down at his hands, then clicked the ballpoint pen end and added the finishing touch to a perfect scene of flying saucers in a dog fight with F-16s. Okay, so the flying saucers were a little lopsided, and he wasn't quite sure that's what an F-16 even looked like, but...

Leo sighed and let his glasses drop to the desk. "What do you want to do about it?"

Josh looked up, in surprise. CJ and Toby echoed his own feelings, resonating around the room. "Well," CJ started, and with a slight shrug, "I suppose we should take a meeting. See if there's something we can give him to hold off."

"Fine," Leo agreed. "Josh, schedule the meeting. Is that it?"

"Josh?" Toby questioned with a slight nervous laugh.

Josh blinked and looked over at Toby and CJ, "Wait. I really think this should be Toby, I'm not... "

Leo turned from Toby and CJ, eyes settling on Josh's face. His boss's face set, as did his mood, determined and full of utter certainty in him. Josh blinked once more, and ran his hand through his hair. He was not at all certain he deserved that from Leo. "Schedule the meeting and get it done as soon as humanly possible. It's time to stop gumming up the works." And then Leo sat down in his chair, and opened a file folder, signaling an end to the meeting.

He clicked his pen, and dumped it into his pocket, standing up. CJ and Toby were already half way out the door, uncharacteristically silent. Pensive and tense, too-- they didn't want him doing this anymore than he did.

"Josh, stick around for a minute."

Toby turned back, and hearing that, closed the door behind him. Sealed in with Leo McGarry now, he bemoaned the lack of escape. The last thing he wanted was to talk about this with anyone. Least among them Leo. Josh sighed, and looked down at the carpet, leaning against the highbacked chair. He waited for his boss to say something, but it became increasingly noticeable that Josh didn't have his full attention. Apparently he was going to have to start. "I'm not avoiding it."

"Coulda fooled me," Leo replied, looking up and putting his glasses back on, then back down on the page. "You're leaking anxiety all over the room. You want to put a stopper on that?"

Josh swallowed and tried to rein it in a little, taking a deep breath. Mentally, he rolled in his emotions, stuffing them in a tight wad in his stomach. It ached a bit, straining against his control. When was the last time he had practiced reining it in? He couldn't remember, just the constant dull throbbing in his chest that he had carried around after the shooting, when he kept stuffing them deeper and deeper, long after the physiological pain had ceased to trouble him. "I didn't realize..."

Leo turned a page, "Josh, if I had a dollar for every time you didn't realize you were broadcasting to the entire room, I'd be a rich man." He paused and thought about that, "I am a rich man. Huh." Another flip of the page.

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder... "

"Josh, believe me when I say that no one cares. But it's time you got back on the horse. We won, Mutant Rights is a thing and you can't pass it off to Toby every time it comes up."

The leather felt cool and hard under his hands as he ran them across the top of the chair. The metal brads warmed under the heat of his palms. He could feel Leo's eyes boring into his skin, and Josh wondered what he was feeling, but didn't dare let go of his own emotions to find out. He had to say something, anything, "Yeah." He swallowed again, mouth suddenly maddeningly dry.

Leo dropped his gaze, and Josh was intensely thankful. "Get out of here and do a job, would you?"

He didn't have to be told twice, and turned around to make his way out, eyes downcast and emotion still gnawing and prickling inside him to be set free. "Thanks Leo," he offered as he swept out of the office, making his way to his office, where he could shut the door and let go, post-haste.

***


	2. Ex Post Facto

8:04 am  
The White House

Flip, flip, flip. While he waited for Donna to reschedule his entire day, Josh devoted himself to zoning out and catching up on the newscycle. Katie Couric was interviewing the family of a soldier in Kundu, something about the miracle birth of quintuplets. Flip, flip, flip. CNN covering Michael Jackson's pederasty case. Flip, flip, flip. Marketwatch. Flip, flip, flip...

He felt her mere seconds before she appeared in his doorway, still scrawling something down in the logbook. Normally her constant static electric hum was comforting to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone. Instead it made his stomach jump again and his chest feel heavy. They were, more than likely, purely psychosomatic reactions. He'd gotten lazy and out of practice in the last two years, but if he was being honest, it had started the minute he had joined the campaign.

"Okay. It was folly to think that we could get Commerce in today. They're coming in tomorrow at two. You're meeting Kelly in his office in half an hour, his speech is at ten, Davidson agreed to push lunch back to two and you still have Matt Skinner at four."

He set the television to CSPAN, covering something utterly banal on Ways and Means at the moment. The remote was pushed off to the side, into a patch of morning sunlight bathing his desk in bright light.

"Josh?" Donna asked, tapping her pen against the edge of the notepad. A complex course danced under her static crackle, and he tried to put name to everything he could find. Occupied, flustered, concerned. "Josh, are you listening?"

"Yeah."

She folded her arms, "What did I just say?"

"Commerce tomorrow, Kelly now, Davidson at two and Matt at four. I heard you." Josh said, sounding distant even to his own ears. Donna continued to look at him, and he dodged her worried look by turning his attention back to the television. God, Harrison was such a windbag.

Her eyes were still on him, and he could feel her emotions bubbling and shifting, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then looked down. Worry drowning out concern, indignation, a little anger. Swiftly, she broke her eye contact, shutting the door in one swift motion. Her hand stayed, and her frame vibrated. "You shouldn't be doing this."

He looked up at her, challenging. "Why not?"

Sparks flashed in her blue eyes, "It's only been three months, Josh. No one should expect you to feel comfortable with -- " Still she leaned against his door.

"There's nothing to feel comfortable about!" Josh sprung out of his chair and paced. He felt caged, and suddenly longed to be outside and on his way to the Hill. He raked an angry hand through his hair, mussing it beyond repair for the moment, and she said nothing in response. "Leo's right. It's bad enough that I can't take meetings on gun control without flipping out. Everyone saw that, they get that. There's sympathy for getting shot. How much longer do you think I get before everyone notices they don't send me out to do mutant stuff too, and connect the dots?"

Donna snorted. "What makes you think anyone's keeping track of what meetings you take?"

"I would. If I were on the other side, that's what I'd be doing. Looking for a pattern, a chink in the armor. What better way to take down the administration then by splashing: Bartlet, in league with mutant terrorists on the front page of the Post?"

She glared at him, defensive and indignant wrapped in layers of anger that swamped out even her magnetic charge. "That's not true."

"It doesn't matter if it's not true!" Josh screamed. She flinched, and he didn't know if it was the noise, or the other thing, but he took a deep breath. "This is my job. If the President can't count on me to represent him, then I'm not able to do the job, and it's time for me to go. Leo's right."

She ducked her head, removing her hand from the doorknob to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The anger in the room dissipated, leaving something fragile he had no name for. Not for the first time, he thought that actual telepathy would be a useful thing to have. Looking down, his watch said eight oh nine, and he knew he had to get going or else he'd be late.

"You're not the only one with something to lose, Josh."

He looked up at her. "Don't you think I know that?"

"I'm just saying, don't lose your cool in there. Senator Kelly's a jerk, but he's an elected, well connected jerk." She was as light in tone as possible and then her hand found the doorknob. Donna leaned against it as it opened, then looked at him. Discussion over, and he didn't need telepathy to get that.

Josh grabbed his backpack and it thumped hard against his back. Distantly, he thought he'd probably pay for that later on tonight. "I'm well connected." He moved out into the hallway and she moved to pour herself a mug of coffee.

"It's debatable," she said loudly.

"I work for the President of the United States," he called back at her, walking backwards and feeling a grin make his way onto his face, even as her distinct feeling edged out of his range. Ed snorted as he passed him in the hall, more amused than irritated.

Donna looked back at him and rolled her eyes, "And God help us," she called out. "Do good."

"Yeah," he called back, and then turned around. He had a meeting to get to.

***

He normally liked to walk from the White House to the Hill, using the time to shape and craft his strategy, and compose his thoughts. Today though, there was an unfortunately dense crowd, mostly composed of tourists, their sluggish moods clouding his mind as much as the sticky, stale heat rising off the asphalt. Josh stepped up the pace, jack-knifing and weaving and bobbing around the masses, eager to get himself out and away.

The crowds thinned as he approached the Hart building, fading from a irritating dull roar to the doppler of busy staffers, little trails of anxiety that faded as soon as they passed. His hand snaked out through the overly chilled air which was only now seeping through the fabric of his clothes, to brush the metal railing. His fingers slid along as he walked, tracing serpentine patterns across the surface and cold to the touch.

On arrival, Senator Kelly's assistant waved him straight through to the office. The Senator sat at his desk, jotting down a note on a post-it pad with a heavy silver pen. His thick horn rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he concentrated. The minute Josh stepped through the doorway, a volt of energy crackled and flooded his extra sense; the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rose in response.

Something was terribly wrong.

Dry mouthed, he swallowed, and then raised his voice, "Senator?"

With an extremely satisfied smile, Senator Kelly pulled the post-it off the pad and enthusiastically stuck it to a blue folder, then set the folder aside into a file folder. "Josh Lyman! I'm glad I could fit you in on such short notice."

Josh blinked, and reached out for a visitor's chair, sliding into it. "Yeah, me too." He blinked again, and rubbed his arm, hoping the sensation would wear off. This room was covered in it, not just metaphorically but _actually_ reeking in power. Behind him, Kelly's secretary shut the door, sealing them in and still the static signal that Josh interpreted as mutancy clouded his mind.

Kelly waited patiently, hands clasped in front of him. Something dangerous and appraising flickered in his eyes before a slow, congenial smile spread across the Senator's face. "You're here about my floor speech in front of the Mutant Rights Commission?" Kelly prompted.

"Yeah," and Josh shook his head a bit, trying to clear it. There was nothing but persistent ringing in his ears, ringing that shouldn't have been there. Catching his breath, he reeled in a little to find actual words, "Yeah."

"Are you okay? You look a little peaked," Senator Kelly asked. "Would you like a glass of water?"

"I'm fine," Josh said, and saying it had some sort of power, forcing him to get it together. "The President of the United States is concerned about the content of the speech you'll be giving today, Senator. It's been more than four months since the Liberty Island attack, the surviving perpetrators of which are currently undergoing trial. This administration's stance has been, and remains, that the Mutant community on a whole should not be punished for the acts of rogue militants, and that crimes committed with the aid of extraordinary abilities should be dealt with on a case by case basis by the courts.

The ACLU, Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, just to name a few, are among those who believe that the Mutant Registration Act, which you have led the charge for, is the herald of a new era in legislative bigotry in this country, singling out the vast number of honest and harmless carriers of the X gene for unprecedented discrimination." He sucked in a gulp of air.

Kelly looked down at his clasped hands, laid flat on the desk in front of him, and bobbed his head. And Josh waited, feeling desperately exposed and blind, the crackle of power in the room unavoidable even when he withdrew as much as possible. Then, the Senator lifted his head and smiled again, almost beatifically. "Well, then, the President and I are going to finally agree on something."

Blink. "Excuse me?"

"Have you been following the trial of Erik Lensherr?"

Had he? His gorge rose, and Josh briefly wondered if he was going to throw up. Or worse, pass out in the middle of this conversation. Instead, he bluffed: "Everyone in America's been following it. It's the Trial of the Century-- until the next Trial of the Century shows up two years from now."

"He's a fascinating individual," Kelly said, continuing to look directly at Josh. "Ever since Liberty Island, I've just been captivated by his story. Can you imagine, growing up in Auschwitz? And that's just what we know about him, the trail grows cold sometime in the mid fifties."

Josh stifled a laugh. Oh, the stories he could have told. The way Joanie would poke him in the morning and whisper that Grandfather had come last night, come and see him before Dad woke up. Josh would rush down the stairs, bare feet slapping hard on icy wooden flooring. The radio would be playing softly, and his Grandfather would conduct along to the music, humming contentedly out of tune while the tea spoon stirred itself, and a knife buttered his toast.

In the morning, their grandfather was a wizard, and magic was real.

What Josh said was this: "I don't understand."

The Senator looked slightly incredulous, "It doesn't strike you as interesting that a man who survived the worst attrocity humanity has ever committed would later become a terrorist dedicated to the destruction of human life?"

You know, I had the great fortune to meet Dr. Martin Luther King when I was in college. I'll never forget it-- young black men, and young black women interacting for the first time with their white neighbors. Each learning that they were all created equally with love by the Lord. I see no reason why the same shouldn't be said for the Children of Adam and the Children of the Atom." Kelly leaned forward in his desk, eyes pinning him to his chair. "We should all be working together."

He wanted to throw up. "We?"

And the Senator leaned back, indulgently, "Humanity and mutants, Josh. Homo sapiens and homo superior, if you prefer. You don't seem to be following this very well." Kelly's laugh was high and sharp, scraping across Josh's shields like the wail of sirens.

"No -- I'm just, stunned. That's all. Of course, the Bartlet Administration will gladly welcome another ally in the fight to secure civil liberties for mutants. I just never expected it to be you. I mean -- last year, you co-sponsored three different pieces of anti-mutant legislation, including the Registration Act. Your party is largely against mutant rights, the church you belong to makes headlines in the Times for refusing service to those with obvious physical mutations, and eighty percent of the people in your state voted for you primarily because of your mutant phobic platform."

"You were right, and I was wrong," Kelly allowed with a bemused smile. "People change. In time and with help, the people of my state will change too. Sometimes it's the only reason to have hope for the future."

"Yeah," Josh laughed raspily, his mouth dry.

Kelly stopped, pulled himself up out of his chair with a wince at some unknown pain that Josh didn't feel, and straightened out his tie expertly. "I think you need some time to think about it. In the meantime, I have a date with Fox News. Let yourself out?"

Josh blinked, "Ah, sure." He sat in the chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose, digging at the corners of his eyes until he was absolutely sure that the Senator had left the immediate space. Then he left, making his way out of the much quieter office. The staffers passed him like ghosts, dark shadows blurring at the corners of his eye with no substance to speak of. He folded his hands in front of his chest to keep from brushing against them accidentally. He was barely aware of anything until he pushed open the doors and slid out to the sunlight, which burned at his eyes.

There were several things Josh Lyman was suddenly, absolutely certain about. That sometime recently, Senator Kelly had been replaced by a mutant. That whomever he had just spoken to had more of an agenda than mutant civil rights. And that he knew everything about Josh that he'd spent a lifetime in politics working to keep quiet -- knew, and wanted something from him in the bargain.

***


	3. Grace Period

12:42 pm  
The White House

"Oh my god!" Donna shouted at practically full blast the minute he stepped into the bullpen. He took a step back, but not in time to escape getting thwacked over the the head with a blue file folder. "Where have you been? I was a minute away from sending the Secret Service out to dredge the river!"

Josh peered at her, shielding himself from another physical attack with his arm. "I needed to clear my head. I took a walk." Luckily the second thwack hit his arm. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Death by a thousand paper cuts, Joshua." Donna said, arms settling on her hips. "You're not allowed to just disappear. Do you have _any_ idea how much work I have to do now? Not to mention -- worried sick here, and the President and Leo have been asking for you for an hour. I called you twelve times. You couldn't pick up your phone _once_ to let me know you were off taking a nooner?"

He pushed passed her. "The President and Leo are looking for me?"

She hissed, "Yes. They want to see you about Senator Kelly." Josh threw his backpack into the computer chair and flopped tiredly into his regular chair. Kelly. Of course. He rubbed his eyebrow-- he was pretty sure she had mortally wounded him with that folder and he'd be passing out any moment now. A quick glance at her revealed that she was looking... guilty? He felt so blind, and his power squirmed under his control, begging to be let go. Just this once, to see what Donna was feeling, and then he could stop using it.

He swallowed and stuffed it further down. "Kelly? What about him?"

Donna's arms folded against her chest, "Well, I think they want to ask if you brainwashed him." She paused slightly. "You look like hell. Were you outside that whole time?" And with a quick motion, she swung around his desk, and pressed a cool and dry hand to his forehead. "Josh, it's a million degrees out there, and you never put sunscreen on. And let me guess, you haven't had anything to drink. God. You could be passed out in some corner right now dying of heat stroke."

"Is there ever any point in me talking?" Josh asked, looking up at her. She took her hand away slowly and looked him in the eyes. There was a little flutter of her brow into a crease that continued down to her twitching lips. Evaluating? Yeah. Evaluating. And worried. God, she had the bluest eyes.

"Not usually." This she said softly. Hurt? He couldn't place that one on his own. "Josh." And he had to swallow again, push the urge to reach out -- far, far down. Down so far that he might forget everything he'd ever known about mutants and genetics and errant extrasensory abilities, much past Donna trying to squirm her way in. After a moment, she let up with a sigh, and said, "Fine. I'm going to get you a bottle of water, and call Debbie. Clean up a little -- I wasn't joking about the President and Leo."

He watched her make her way to the door, wondering about the little gawky hip shifts. When you couldn't feel a person anymore, the way they moved took on a bizarre alien quality, abstract and sharp in all the wrong places. Like puppets pulled along on strings. "Donna?"

Close the door. I want to tell you something. I think I'm in a lot of trouble, and I'm afraid. I'm sorry I worried you. I need help. I don't know what to tell them, when they ask. What am I going to do? I'm pretty sure a US Senator has been replaced by a very powerful mutant impostor, that he knows about me, and is probably an ally of my grandfather and the Mutant Brotherhood. What should I be doing?

"Is -- Kelly did it?"

Donna nodded. "Yeah. Josh -- " And she squinted, evaluating again he assumed. "I'm going to go get that bottle of water now."

Shit.

***

When meeting with the President of the United States, there was usually no way to avoid the private sitdown in the Oval Office. In four years, rarely went the day when Josh didn't have reason to tread around the edges of the deep blue presidential carpet or sit at his favorite spot on the couch, next to CJ and at Leo's left side. With a single look, the President glued him to his spot, and he slunk down into the chair. Leo settled down next to him. Silently.

That's how he knew he was screwed.

He felt suddenly he was sure he knew how Woody Allen felt on the inside (not that he'd ever met him) -- like a thousand little rubber balls had been set free inside him. Just bouncing off the interior walls, looking for a weak spot. Clearly, they knew something, or suspected something. Oh, god, what if they thought he'd actually brainwashed Kelly. He couldn't do that! He couldn't make people obey his bidding. Which was a damn shame, actually -- but he couldn't!

"I just want to say right now -- I had nothing to do with this! I swear, all I did was take the meeting, he'd already decided to do it before I went there." Josh blurted. Best to get it over with.

Leo and the President shared a look. Leo spoke first, "Josh. Calm down."

"I'm calm." He insisted, hands fidgeting. "You can't tell that I'm not calm. I'm like the ocean on a very calm day."

For some reason, they found this funny. "Josh." The President began. "The conservative face of anti-mutant bigotry in this country woke up this morning and discovered that he does have a conscience after all. His change of mind, or heart, has saved millions of innocent Americans from the immediate threat of discrimination based on their genetics. Did you really think we were going to scold you?"

Leo leaned forward and smiled, "Hell, I'm considering giving you a raise."

Josh blinked, and looked from Leo up to the President. "You -- you can't, I maxed out last year." Huh. They didn't seem to suspect a thing. A tickle of relief wormed it's way up his spine and he leaned back into the chair.

"I said I was considering it." Leo returned.

The President laughed and leaned against the Resolute desk, almost wobbling one of the paperweights off. "Relax, son. We just want to know what you did."

They really had no idea. The realization shocked him. They had no idea. "I -- I didn't do anything. I just walked in, and he started talking about Martin Luther King, and the civil rights movement." With a swallow, he thought about it. Of course they had no idea. Aside from the obvious mutations -- teenage boys with angel wings, and wolfgirls, how could any human -- non-mutant human, how could they tell? That was why they were afraid. Josh blinked, and blinked again, taking a moment to look from Leo to the President the way they saw people all the time, with nothing but the slight movement of flesh to betray what was sitting right next to them in the armchair. Opening his mouth, Josh continued, "I really didn't do anything. I think he just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning." Letting go of a breath he wasn't aware of holding, Josh also let go of his sixth sense, which immediately covered the room and spread as far out as he could send it, as if anyone else would be able to tell he was showing off. There were six very male presences, all agents, and a bit further out on the edge of his awareness he could feel Charlie and Debbie busily working in the hallway.

And of course, there was the President, and Leo beside him on the couch. They looked at each other, then Leo looked down into his folder. The President, however, continued searching him with his eyes. Josh looked at him, and allowed himself to feel curious in the most flat way he could project. "That was it?" The President squinted steely blue eyes at him, hoping for something else.

For just a brief moment, Josh felt a little pang of guilt about lying. "That was all. Like I said, he had already decided to change his position before I got there."

"Okay," Leo said, and there was a tone of finality in his voice. His mood was dark and murky, hard to decode as he stood up and closed his leather portfolio. The President's, however, was projected as clearly and concisely as it ever was: heavy currents of frustration pushed under a disarmingly tranquil and tamed vista. "You have Fitz and Nancy waiting for you downstairs, sir. Josh, in my office, please."

Josh blinked and looked over his shoulder, and then walked swiftly out of the Oval Office. Leo's office was dim, the shades pulled down over the window and blocking the summer sunlight from the room. Bill O'Reilly was broadcasting on Fox. The set was on mute, but the crawl and the text under his fat globular jaw announced the story of the day on the right-wing's premier media outlet to be Kelly's 'defection' to the other side. He snorted thinking about it. If only they knew.

Leo entered the room a moment later, a dark shadow descending as he shut the door behind him. "You wanna tell me where you were all morning?"

Josh flicked his glance over to Leo, eyes momentarily unglued from the television. Leo put on his glasses and looked up at him and Josh could feel that this wasn't entirely just a matter of checking up on him. There was concern, and it was firmly pressing down on him, but it was much more serious than that. Josh tried to pry a little further, but Leo pushed him away rather quickly without so much as a missed glance. "Josh, where were you?"

"I had a personal thing." Josh hedged quickly.

Leo continued to look at him. "A personal thing is what? A doctor's appointment of some kind, you had a lunch date with a woman -- what?"

***


	4. Passive Sonar

1:28 pm  
The White House

"Listen, if Leo asks where I was this afternoon, tell him I was out on a date." Josh said, stopping right in front of his assistant's bent body as she put a new roll of paper into the fax machine. She fairly buzzed with the activity, and a general spirit of being pleasantly pleased by life. He looked down at his watch and frowned. Normally, that had worn off about an hour ago. Normally, he found it annoying. Today he found it refreshing, and was glad she was here.

Donna's head popped back up in front of him. Right in front of him. He could see all the little freckles on her nose. "You weren't out on a date, you were wandering around outside like an idiot on the second hottest day of the year with a suit and tie on." She pressed a half-full bottle of water against his hand and then swept out around him towards her cubicle.

Josh frowned and followed her, "Donna, just tell him I was out with a woman." Dutifully, he unscrewed the bottle top and drank deeply.

Donna rolled her eyes and sent a heavy wave of annoyed humor at him. "Fine, I'll lie for you, but I need something in return."

He briefly considered what it could be as he picked up a couple of files he needed and decided to walk them to Oliver Babish's office. Donna followed quickly behind him on his heels, eager for his response. "What is it?"

"Funnily enough, I have a date tonight." She said, smiling and tilting her head like so in his direction. At this exact moment in time, Joshua Lyman decided he hated all women. Particularly the blondes. "A real one," she continued, just to spite him. "And so I need to leave today at eight. We're going out to dinner, and I'm going to have a full three course meal and engage in actual conversation in which I will share alluring tidbits about myself to convince him that I am worth the effort of putting up with the sixteen hour workdays my horrible boss keeps me at like a slave driver."

Briefly, he searched his mind for any pressing legislation passing in the next twenty four hours that required pressing attention from the White House. Coming up blank, Josh opened his mouth and said, "Fine."

"Really?" Donna said, and she practically lept off the floor with glee. "You understand that I will not be coming back here tonight under any circumstances?"

"Here's a thought," Josh said as they both walked out of the bullpen. "How about we actually talk about work at work? Or better yet, what if we worked at work?"

"Can I talk to you about this thing about Carrick and the Marine Mammals Protection Act?"

"No," Josh said, picking up his pace.

Donna just stepped it up herself. Her obvious joy made him feel queasy in the stomach. "I'm telling you anyway."

Josh shrugged and reached his hand out for the banister to start trotting down the stairs. "And I'll be ignoring you."

Dauntless, Donna smiled and said, "I really think you need to pay more attention to this, Josh. Cetaceans-- that is Latin for "large ocean creature" rely principally on sonar for their ability to navigate both shallow coastal breeding grounds and the deeper trenches in open water where they feed. Sonar as you know, is an extra spatial ability involving the projection of sound waves in a medium, using the different speeds of return to calculate where solid objects are in space. Typically, dolphins and whales project these sounds at a level of 30-120 kHz. In busy coastal areas -- areas like the Puget Sound, which see a lot of ocean traffic, however, scientists have recorded these sounds at higher levels than normal." She waited a moment. "It's the equivalent of shouting to be heard in a rock concert. The dolphins are shouting, Josh."

"The dolphins are shouting," Josh repeated, desperately trying to walk faster and find some way of blocking out Donna's insistent enthusiasm.

"They're shouting to be heard." Donna confirmed, giving him a look. "I have a date tonight. You don't find that interesting?"

Josh frowned, and bit down on his lip. He hated it when she played with him like a toy. Clearly, she had to know how taunting and unfair this was, dangling her date in front of him and daring him to come up with a clever plan to keep her here. Unfortunately, he couldn't come up with anything off the top of his head. Dropping the folder on Babish's desk, he looked around the office. This office, full of busy people doing busy things and thinking busy things was crowding out his own thoughts. "Not exactly. I'm leaving at eight. You know, if you sleep with guys on the first date, they're going to think you're easy."

Donna blasted hot anger. "I thought you wanted to talk about work today."

"I do." Josh asserted, looking over at her before ducking his head away.

"Your meeting with Davidson is in twenty minutes, the organic food regulation proposal is here." She practically stuffed it in his chest. "Read in the cab and have the salmon not the steak." Donna gave a look down at his hands, and he noted the bottle of water. Josh looked up at her, and then, more than a little frightened by her roiling mood, he had a drink of water. Donna squinted and said, "Remember, Skinner at four."

***

By mid-afternoon, exhaustion had set in for everyone in the West Wing. People sat at their desks and turgidly nibbled at what was left of their lunches. Josh was far too full to even consider eating again; the lunch with Davidson had unexpectedly tuned into a three-course meal and a discussion of the President's eating habits. If he could blame a discussion about Oregon's green bean production on someone, he would most certainly make an effort to find that person out and throttle them. Once he was done digesting.

He wandered into the Communication's Bullpen to find Will Bailey leaning back on a desk with his sister, both of them captivated by the highlight reel of the Senator's 'shocking turnaround', as they had tagged it on CNN. "Hola. Anyone think we should institute a siesta around here?"

Elsie responded mutely with a slow moving wave that barely broke for his presence. "You're the miracle worker. If you can do that, you can do anything. I believe now, Josh, I believe." She gave a nod to the TV set and clapped her hands. Josh tilted his head up to regard the clip piece until the remaining fifteen seconds were up. Beside her, Will stirred from his own food coma, little sparks of brain activity going off like a firecracker that has just been lit. Josh raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Unlike Elsie, I don't believe you have Jesus-like powers of raising the dead." Will responded, looking at him. "I'm not sure you're Tinkerbell either."

"If you hear the rumors I hear, he's more like Peter Pan," She suggested with sudden liveliness and then picked up her coffee mug and a folder, before sauntering off around the corner, towards the East Wing.

Josh flicked his attention from the doors to Will, "Well, thank you. I feel so flattered right now."

Will shrugged with nonchalance, "I just follow her lead. What's up?"

"There's this thing, it involves the Navy and dolphins..." Josh started, and took a step towards Will's office.

Will followed him, albeit reluctantly. "You do realize I'm the Air Force Reserve, right? It's a whole other branch of the military and -- dolphins?" His curiosity peaked into bouncing waves.

"Yeah." Josh said, "You see, the Navy has spent a lot of time, and money in R&amp;D for their new Low-frequency Active Sonar. It just happens to broadcast at a level of 240 decibels, which is several times louder than the frequency dolphins and whales use for their own sonar, a potential violation of the Marine Mammals Protection Act. Normally, it wouldn't be on my desk, and it wouldn't be on your desk, but Carrick's taken a personal interest in it, and we need his support for military base closures, so... "

"You want me to lend some military air to the meeting?" Will jumped.

Josh snorted a laugh, "No, I want you to actually take the meeting, talk Carrick down and -- you know, lend some military air to this White House."

Will doubted and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Right. Okay."

Josh picked himself up off the chair he had perched on and was about to make his way out when Will blurted out: "I'm sorry, but: does this White House ever get tired of always taking the punch on security issues?"

"What?"

"Or do you just not notice? You just asked me to go take a meeting with a three-term Senator who is on the cusp of leaving the Democratic party, to convince him shelve a monumentally expensive and cutting edge piece of security equipment to save the lives of dolphins so that three months from now we can shut down the Army base that employs several thousand people in his state. We have a 51/49 majority in the Senate, or haven't you noticed?" Will accused, temper lashing out. "You're the White House's Chief Domestic Policy adviser, tell me how this strategy works for the Democratic party. I'll give you another example: registration.

We're running a massive peace-keeping mission in Kundu, the middle-east is heating up because Iran is building a nuclear reactor and China is making territorial advances on Japan. Yet the only security message we seem to send out on a day to day basis is that the American people should relax and let their children go to school with other children who might wake up from naptime and decide to blow up the school without even knowing who these children are. No wonder we can't take back the House."

From the doorway, Toby glowered with dark brown jagged waves. "It's institutionalized racism."

"Toby," Will said with a tilt of his head.

"It's institutionalized racism. I don't care if it's one vote or a million votes, mutant registration is institutionalized racism, and this administration will not be party to it." Toby countered, eyes fixed on Will. Josh sat quietly in his chair and looked down at the ground, keeping his sudden whim to lash out at Will firmly in check.

Will leaned against the desk and looked from Josh to Toby, irritation sliding into a false placidity. "I'm saying, a national version of Erica's Law. Let's put mandatory pre-natal genetic screening on the books, and make it available for everyone. It saves lives, studies have shown, when the delivery room attendants are prepared with a mutant stress kit. No more babies unexpectedly being born needing a carbon dioxide filled environment. Do you tick off the little box that says 'Caucasian' on forms? One little check box, during the census and on your income tax. That's all it takes."

Josh looked up and found his voice, "The race boxes on federal forms are voluntary."

Will scuffed his foot against the carpet. "So is this. It isn't registration, it is a voluntary act taken by those who have nothing to hide. You've heard this argument before -- moderate Democrats proposing acceptable half-way measures to appease both sides of the issue."

"It is not voluntary. It's unacceptable. There are no federal guidelines protecting mutants from discrimination in hiring, in health care, in schools." Toby ticked off the three items on his fingers before looking up at Will. "It is not voluntary when failure to report would be seen as an attempt to deceive."

"There's the sixteenth and seventeenth amendments," Will said. "And McCoy versus the New York Academy of Medicine, coming soon to a Supreme Court near you."

"God and the fine nursing team of the Chief Justice willing," Toby said.

Will muttered, "Amen," and turned around his desk to pull the folder out of his hand. Josh was momentarily swamped by his dismal disappointment. "Now if you'll excuse me, Flipper needs me."

Toby continued to lean against the desk, eyes focused on the window but his attention solely on Josh. Josh let his breath go out of his nose, and loosened his hands on the edge of the chair. Each level of his shielding let go, pop pop pop and then he turned to look at Toby, raising his eyebrow. Toby's complicated emotions peppered Josh's own. "You're never going to do it, are you?" The door clicked closed behind him.

"You know, I've been doing this my entire life. I think I'm the best judge of who I should and shouldn't tell." Josh shot back.

Toby blinked, and then raised a hand, "This indecision of yours is your worst quality. You think if you hang back and keep quiet, the world is just going to ignore you? Mild-mannered Joshua Lyman, ignore the man behind the curtain, digging through your thoughts -- "

"That's not -- "

"What, you're afraid of Will Bailey? Or the Friends of Humanity? 'Cause I got news for you. You're the most powerful mutant in the country and when you sit back and play pretend -- when you silence yourself, you let them win without even putting up a fight. Inaction is not a neutral response, it's appeasement. It's 1933, and they're going to come in the night for you, and then they're going to come for Donna."

"I don't know what more you think I'm responsible for doing, Toby. I work every day to make sure that doesn't happen. You want me to live up to the family name, write a manifesto and build a damn death ray?"

"It's called putting some skin into the game. Show some leadership. An **appeal** to the greater cause of enfranchisement, the idea that all people are invited to have a voice in their government and the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. We work in politics, and they shouldn't be ideals we just mouth in an election year." Toby countered, flattening all his anger. "Have you spoken with him?"

"No." Josh said, rubbing at his temple. Toby was loud, and it was giving him a headache. "I don't think White House staffers should be visiting criminals."

"Yeah?" Toby huffed. "What do you know now that you didn't know six months ago?"

***


	5. Cut and Run

7:12 pm  
Josh's Condominium

The keys and his phone landed on his coffee table with a clatter and he tossed the mail after it. The condo was still disgustingly hot and he wasn't alone. A heavy oscillating whine ran through his mind. Josh practically leapt out of his skin.

Donna sat on his couch in a little blue number, and as she folded her legs it crept up her thighs an inch or two. Josh shook his head and tried to shut up all his lustful thoughts about what he would do if he could run his hands up and help the fabric in its tactical retreat. He clamped up his powers tightly - he didn't need to give anything away. "You're supposed to be out on a date."

She pouted, fluttered her eyes at him and said, "He canceled on me."

"And so you thought you'd come over here?" Josh asked, nervously laughing. He leaned back against the wall of his hallway, corner digging under his shoulder blade. "I don't have any Ben and Jerry's."

"That is not why I am here." She clicked her booted heel against the other, eyes following his own. "Sit down on the couch."

Josh blinked and swallowed, "I -- don't think I will."

"Josh," she smiled wickedly and got up off the couch. Her hips swayed as she walked, the dress and the movement smooth like water rippling. He blinked, watching them in disbelief. There was a slight wobble on one side, and then her hips were gingerly brushing up against his own, hand running down his tie. "There was no date..."

Her lips brushed his, and he slammed the butt of his palm into her hip. She screamed, a yowl completely unlike Donna's voice, and he took the moment to grab her shoulders and push her to the floor. Her claws dug into his arms, scratching into the linen of his dress shirt. He fell along with her onto the carpet, a heavy thud onto his knees. It was stupid, he thought fighting in general was idiotic but getting into fist fights with anyone with his powers was beyond dumb. His breath came to him in gulps, along with her own. It was a sharp tearing pain, the ache of ripped flesh bound by stitches. "Where's Donna?" He growled, smashing his hand again into her side.

Donna's blue eyes had been replaced by golden yellow ones. A shiver ran up her side, blue scales replacing pale skin. He clenched his hand, only to feel his finger slip into one of the sticky wounds he had been hitting. Her blood was red and slick on his hand and he felt nausieous. His blood? No, no, it wasn't his.

The blue woman grimaced through the pain and laborously changed again. She was Henry Gyrich now, and the pain subsided. The blood was still hers, and he was still catching his breath. With a sweep of her foot, she knocked him off of her prone body. "Brave of you." He scrambled to get to his feet, to get away from her and ended up knocking against his coffee table. He balled his hands into fists, but she grabbed his wrists and pushed him down with force.

"Where's Donna?" Josh repeated.

Gyrich merely smiled. When had she replaced Kelly's Chief of Staff, he wondered. How had he never noticed before? Shortly after he had been 'mauled by a bear', he had to assume and wasn't that a little more obvious than the usual 'spending more time with the wife and kids'... How could he have been so slow? "I need all the information on the federal supermax prison cell being used to hold Erik Lensherr."

Josh squirmed, twisting his wrists and stretching his legs out. She pressed down on them to stop him, eyes tracking him. He coughed, gasped for air, uncomfortable with the weight on top of his chest and the accuracy of her impersonation and said, "What makes you think I have access to that?"

"You _are_ the President's domestic adviser." She/Gyrich said.

Josh rolled his eyes, "Okay, that's not how it works."

"Isn't it? A misplaced file here, a password, someone who owes you a favor... "

"What makes you think I want him free?" Josh strained and pushed against her. She slammed him back to the floor and he felt the back of his head reverberating. It hurt pretty bad, like he wanted to pass out. Where she was weighing down his chest ached along old wounds. He wondered if she still hurt. Passing out right now would not be good.

He also wanted to throw up, which couldn't possibly be endearing.

Gyrich pulled her head back and raised an eyebrow in an expression Josh doubted the real Gyrich had ever made.

"What makes you think I want him free?" Josh countered, pushing against her. She slammed him back down and he frowned. Ow.

Gyrich pulled her head back and raised an eyebrow, an expression Josh doubted the real Gyrich had ever made. "You would leave your own grandfather caged, again."

"He tried to use a little girl melt the brains of the UN. I mean, not that I have a lot of respect for the collective brainpower of the United Nations either, but c'mon." Josh said, and now that words were coming to him, maybe he should stall for time? He wondered, idly, if she would try to kill him. "Are you going to try and kill me? I mean, I know he's got some pretty loose morals these days and I've heard some things about his associates, but I always kind of imagined I would be immune to this."

"Immune?"

"Yeah, you know, what with being his only living grandchild and a mutant, I kind of thought..."

Henry Gyrich snorted. "You think too much."

Josh looked at her. "The President of the United States was there."

"Your boss?" She questioned with a sneer. "Oh, Joshua, I've seen how they treat you, how they look at you when your back is turned." She continued, lifting a hand to brush some curls on the top of his head. "They tolerate you because you're smarter, because they need you, because you can pass. We both know it."

"That's hilarious coming from a woman wearing a dead man's face." Gathering all his force, he kneed her in the accuracy of her impression, and pushed hard on her shoulders, just prying her off of him. He scrambled to get his feet out and under him while she yowled and clawed forward, lunging for the door.

***

Josh stumbled down his steps and out into the darkening streets of Capitol Hill, almost immediately knocking into a couple. "Sorry, sorry," he said, looking over his shoulder at them as he bounced off them. He saw no sign of any shadowy figure slinking out of his condo and decided to keep it that way. He dodged a car as he jogged across the street.

He turned the corner, past the deli, and into a more touristy corridor of the neighborhood, barely skirting the busy tables that Starbucks had used to claim the sidewalk. They were full of people, Josh noted with a distracted eye. They drank coffee and scribbled notes and their hands fluttered about awkwardly at the end of their arms like disconnected things. Humans were very strange looking. He continued going until he was out of breath a block or two later.

He rubbed his chest to try and soothe the protest of his lungs and resolved to try and do some of those exercises that his cardiologist was always pushing if he managed to get through this alive. With the other hand, he hailed a cab. Stepping inside and falling over onto the back seat, Josh gave the cabbie the address. He slunk back down onto the clammy faux leather seats to catch his breath and closed his eyes.

"Weird day?" The cabbie asked, taking a look at him as they stopped in traffic.

Josh reluctantly cracked open an eye to look at the guy. He seemed pretty normal. Was it possible to kill a DC cabdriver and steal the car in under five minutes? He really had no way of knowing. "Uh, yeah. Pretty weird."


	6. Internal Debate

7:32 pm  
Donna's Apartment

Josh burst into Donna's apartment pushing Sarah out of the way at the sight of a flash of blonde hair. "Oh, Thank God!" She was wearing ridiculous pink cartoon pajamas and one of those flimsy spaghetti tops. Without thinking about doppelgangers, he smothered her in a giant bear hug. Her body felt real - squishy breasts and bony arms like sticks. Her skin was warm and smooth and he could see she had freckles on her shoulders. She even smelled like Donna - like the floral lotion she used which made him sneeze.

Donna squeaked and tried to squirm out of Josh's grasp, "Josh! What the hell are you doing here? How did you know I would even _be_ here. I had a date! How did you know my date wasn't going to be here?!"

Josh said, "Trust me, I know. We really have to go now, bye Sarah!"

Donna's little bunny slippers make plastic squelchy noises against the door seal as he pulls her into the hallway. "Josh! Josh, Goddamn you. I'm in pajamas, I can't go to work in pajamas. You need to explain what's got you in such a flummox!"

Josh looked back over his shoulder and says, "Word of the day?"

"Shut up."

"You first." Josh went back to pulling her down the hall, and she followed him. "Tell me something only you would know."

"What? Is this a work thing? Why?" She slipped her hand out of his and stood her ground.

"That's how they usually do this on Star Trek."

Donna's brows stuck together oddly. Weird, were faces normally this mobile? He had to spend some more time working on this, or maybe talk to Joey Lucas if he managed to get out of this alive. "Are you kidding me with this?" She looked down at his hands, and said, "Is that blood?"

He looked at them - they were coated in a rusty brown. He rubbed his fingers together and bits flaked off. Weird that he hadn't noticed this earlier. Had the cabbie noticed that? "Yeah - not mine. I am not kidding. This is my not kidding face. A duplicate Donna Moss just tried to strangle me in my apartment and three months ago costumed vigilantes managed to save us all from my grandfather's death ray so I think we're not in Wisconsin anymore, Donnatella. Tell me something only the real you knows."

"You snore."

"No."

"Okay, you hate my roommate's cats?"

"No," he said, annoyed. "Half the office knows that."

"True. Um. Okay, Star Trek, right? Remember when you yelled at Janice about her pin? You love Star Trek because Joanie used to watch it."

Josh thought for a moment, "No, not good enough."

Donna looked ... well, he couldn't really say how Donna looked, but her lips went down and her eyes went all big. Sad, he guessed. "Who would know that, Joshua? You never ever talk about Joanie to anyone."

"Friends of my grandfather might know that." He said quietly. The leather of his shoes bent as he shifted, realizing he couldn't dig his toes into linoleum.

Donna put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."

"I know." Josh said, and he stepped around her to peer through her open apartment door. No sign of brunette Sarah, but her ugly fat cat got up off the couch and hissed at him for some reason. He was tempted to hiss back - the feeling was mutual.

"I mean, oh my God. Josh. They impersonated me? To strangle you!?"

"Uh, I know." Josh rubbed the back of his head. His hair was a bit stiffer than usual. Odd. "Actually, she looked like Henry Gyrich at that point. Maybe. It's all a blur."

"Oh my God."

"Can we please move on? I'm assuming this is shock." Josh pushed through the doorway and back into her apartment. "You're right, you can't go out in your jammies, you have to put some real clothes on. And shoes."

She shut the door behind them and said, "Wait, but you haven't proved to yourself that I'm the real me yet."

Josh just looked at her. "No one but you could be that... you. Besides, I don't think friends of my grandfather know about Star Trek girl."

"Janice." Donna auto corrected.

Josh rolled his eyes. "Janice. Right - you think their oppo is that good that they know her name?"

Donna made a very indelicate snort out of her nose. "If I was a renegade mutant terrorist who could look like anyone, I would know Janice's name. I would have been secretly following you for weeks in an attempt to soften your resolve against spying in the White House, by say, weakening your relationships with Leo or the President so that you more easily fell to my charms." She moved off into the hallway bathroom, and started digging around behind the vanity mirror.

Josh felt pretty weak. She had a point there. "Okay. I am so glad you're not a terrorist. Wait - how did you know about the spying thing?" This was all pretty suspicious. Still, her couch was very inviting. He sat down on it.

She had found her first aid kit and gently pushed him onto her couch. Donna tossed her ponytail back over her shoulders and then tore open a sanitary wipe, swabbing some scratches on his hand he didn't even know he had gotten. She swabbed the dried blood off his fingers. He wasn't even sure he could really feel it, other than the cold liquid and a bit of sting. "C'mon Joshua, what else would anyone need you for?"

"Flattering."

"Only you would think so," she muttered. "She tried to strangle you? Does it hurt? I need to know what happened." Donna asked, lifting his chin to look at his neck.

Josh pulled his head away from her hands. "Nothing. I hit the back of my head. I don't want to go to GW. It'll take hours and we'll have to sit in the segregated section, and I hate that."

Donna just gave him a look. "I know, I'm trying to avoid that, but you obviously - if she hit you hard enough to knock your powers out, it means she hit you hard enough to give you a concussion. Brain damage." She lifted a hand to gently feel the knot at the back of his head. That was weird, he hadn't noticed that either. "We can always call Leo - "

Josh swallowed. "No."

Donna kept looking at him and then with her free hand lifted her fingers. "How many?"

"Three."

"Okay." Donna said, "No GW, for now. Why aren't we calling Leo?" She picked up his other hand to swab it off quickly and then wadded up the wrappers and the wet swabs. Then she opened a box of bandaids, tapping one out into her waiting palm.

"If she can pretend to be you, she could pretend to be Leo. Or the President. It's safer for both of us if she doesn't know where we are."

"If she can get into the White House and pretend to be the President, then no one is safe. Besides, she can't pretend to be the President. She'd have to fool the First Lady, Leo and the Secret Service, to say nothing of Toby Ziegler and the press..."

Josh eyed Donna sceptically, "Looks are apparently deceiving. No one suspects that Kelly's been replaced by a doppelganger yet."

Donna looked up. "What?!"

Josh blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Senator Kelly's been replaced by the same shapeshifting doppelganger who just tried to kill me."

***

They worked together sixteen, eighteen hour days sometimes. And other weeks it was a very normal week, for DC - light weekends, everyone home by eight. He thought he had a good idea of where she went and what she did during those hours, but as she dragged him into the seedy cafe he realized he had no idea. It was the sort of place he hadn't been since he was in college - not that he'd ever have been caught dead in a mutant's only cafe back then. "Hey Tank," she said, greeting the large panther-like mutant guarding the door and then he buzzed it open for them. He looked at Josh like he knew who he was - which did nothing to reassure him about Donna's free time. Neither did the large claws.

"Why's it called Genosha?" It was dim in there, but he could tell it was the sort of bohemian space that barely made the rent. There were concert posters, which caught his attention as they went down the stairway.

Donna blinked. "You don't know?" She lifted her hair back to put it up in a loose bun, and then allowed herself to shimmer a bit. She smiled at him and lifted a hand to swirl pink and yellow in the air with a finger. He watched as the pale light shimmered up the hairs on the nape of her neck. "It's a crappy novel by a woman named Irene Adler where all the mutants take over the island - you know, off Africa? Near Madagascar. Some of the - well, some of the more radical activists think we'll actually go there someday."

"Really." Josh said. "Next year in Genosha?"

Donna blinked and said, "Oh. I never thought of that before."

Josh had to laugh at the whole idea. "It's working out really well for us Jews, that. No, I guess I knew about mutant Zionism, I just didn't care about the details."

"Much like the regular old Zionism," Donna said, and he must be feeling a bit better because he could tell that was _arch_.

He folded his arms. "Okay, we share this - but you don't get to be a bitch about my Judaism, because it's mine. And your name's not Tobias Zachary Ziegler."

"Only if you never use the word bitch to refer to me again," she said, pulling a free table over to two ratty armchairs near a bookshelf. She folded into it gracefully, so she could peer at the tattered collection of books on the lower shelves easier. It was good that she was her own flashlight, he could barely see in here.

He could recognize a new amendment to their friendship when one was reached. "Done." Josh flopped into the chair intended for him. "Irene Adler? That's a codename, right? 'Would she not have made an admirable Queen?'"

"'A Study in Scarlet'," Donna said, looking over at him with a smile. "I've never thought of that before, but it must be." She found the book she was looking for: something called 'Mutates: Your Body and You,' by Dr. Moira McTaggart. "There's about fifty copies here if you want to read it. Genosha, I mean."

He didn't, particularly. Amy Gardner had made him read some Feminist Utopian science fiction when they both went to Yale under the premise that he enjoyed that sort of thing, but he had found it more polemic than story. He could imagine 'Genosha' would be exactly the same. She flipped through to the back of her book, looking for something. He shifted, and looked around. There was a woman in the back who had large fly-wings sprouting from her back and glittery faceted eyes, talking to another woman who was dark black - like a black hole black, only distinguishable by shape.

"So why are we here?" Josh ventured, after five minutes of uncomfortable sitting.

Donna looked up and around, then said: "You don't want to stay in my apartment, and you don't want to go to yours. We should go to _work_ and tell someone, but you don't want to do that. You don't want to see a doctor and we can't call the cops. It rules a lot of things out." She rubbed her skin for some moisture to turn a sticky page, which left a glittering fingerprint behind her. "This is the next safest place."

He looked around again, counting the people. "Counting the barrista, and not counting us, there are three people here."

Donna snorted. "They serve coffee."

"I didn't even know you went to places like this," Josh muttered, pulling his body out of the chair to get them some coffee. He was completely wrecked. The barrista looked like a flatliner, but until his powers came back he couldn't tell for sure. "Two?" He ordered, and tried to look casual. The barrista looked him over and raised an eyebrow before pouring two mugs of coffee. Josh dropped some bills into the donation jar and then brought them back to their table.

The black hole woman in the corner got up to leave. Josh almost spilt the coffee over his hands when the overhead florescent lighting flickered back on. He winced in pain, and put the coffee down to rub his eyes. "Ow, Josh," Donna said, and then kicked him in the leg.

"Oh." Josh said and tried to tamp it down, which was hard when he wasn't yet aware of being able to broadcast. "Could you not use my name?"

Donna snorted, "No one cares. No one here is going to out you." With the light back on, she stopped glowing, though the remainder of her light show fluttered back onto her skin and clothes as a shimmery metallic powder. "Good news. I mean, aside from you making the entire room wince just now." She tapped the book. "The chapter on telepathy says that the X-gene altered your entire brain, so as long as you continue to have higher functions, your powers should return once the swelling goes down."

He wasn't entirely thrilled with her answer. "Yeah? Woohoo."

"They have some Zener cards in back. Want me to check them out and we can play?" Donna asked, and he watched her over his mug of coffee. Seeing no answer coming, she continued: "It'd be good practice."

"I suck at them. I'm not a real telepath."

Donna closed the book on her finger, and sighed, slightly exasperated with him. As the coffee began to work its magic, he felt some crackles in the back of his head. It was uncomfortable the way it was coming in and out indistinctly, like his television signal any time it rained in DC. "Josh."

"Stop saying my name." Josh said, putting his mug down. "And say whatever it is you're thinking. I'm not a telepath, so unless you say it..."

Donna licked her dry lips and then picked up her own mug to take a long pull off of it. "Close enough for government work. Hey, the book says it's very unlikely you'll get Alzheimer's, because the X-gene that activates telepathy is an adaption to dementia. That's comforting, I can tell people you're not actually demented."

Josh pressed his lips together and cocked his head. Donna put on her best innocent face, but now he knew she was doing it on purpose. They stared at each other, willing one or the other to break first. "You didn't take the tests." He said finally, to break their silence.

She looked up at him and frowned. "Do you want to spy on the United States government?"

He winced. "Jesus, Donna. You know I don't."

"So then all there is to do is suck it up and admit you lied to Leo."

"I didn't."

"You're not required to disclose your genetic status on documents for employment," Donna said, picking through the legal stuff carefully. "You did and I chose not to do it - thank you, by the way, again." He always thought it was funny when she reminded him of his legal rights. "But you can get in a lot of trouble if you perjured yourself to the FBI."

He was suddenly really tired despite the coffee. He reached over to pick it up and blew on the top. "I didn't lie."

"You didn't tell them the whole truth." He watched as she looked into her mug - when he blinked he could just sense her. The still fuzzy signal of her mutant powers and below that gentle frustration at him, and a bashfulness tempered with concern. It could sometimes be difficult to deal with how much love she had to give out, and he drained his mug to recenter himself.

Josh put the mug back down and said, "It was insulting that they made me do it in the first place."

Donna shrugged. "You didn't have to tell them - and you knew this day was going to come. The reason you don't want to go back to the White House doesn't have anything to do with who Kelly is or isn't, and it doesn't have to do with you deliberately flubbing your tests. It has to do with the fact you lied to Leo and you're afraid of what he'll think." She affixed him with that ice blue glare, daring him to confront her on it.

Josh grimaced. Donna looked down at her own cup and sipped at it. A long, uncomfortable moment passed. "I never used to tell anyone."

"I know," Donna said. "But think about how much worse the last few months would have been if you hadn't said something early."

Josh leaned back in the armchair. He really wanted nothing more than to be able to sleep. It was supposed to have been an early night for him and he really did need it. "Yeah. Leo knew anyway. From before."

"Yeah," Donna said, her blue eyes meeting his. "It's going to be fine, Josh. He's Leo."

Josh propped his head up on his fist and looked out the tiny basement windows. "Yeah." He sniffed to clear his nose, and then said: "Can we just sit here a while?"

He couldn't see her, but a gently rolling wave of pink accompanied her voice. "Sure, Josh. They're open all night."

***


	7. Truth to Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of 'X-Men: First Class', which I thought was the best one yet. One more chapter to go.

4:50 AM  
Josh's Office

Josh had never found sleeping particularly easy. His mother was an insomniac who often got up at four AM to warm up on her piano for the day, and as a child he had terrible nightmares. He wasn't sure that was anything special, except: his nightmares had the ability to wake up the house. Sleeping alone was a better bet, but his brain went slack and he woke up unsettled and alone, or worse, knowing way too much about Mrs. Little in the upstairs condo. So at some point in his career, he'd picked up the habit of sleeping in his office. The few people in the White House in this hour weren't asleep, and so wouldn't be subjected to his nocturnal wanderings. And being mainly janitorial, he found the thought rhythm of the physical activity soothing. Like the white noise of television.

It was a good practice. Impressed the boss, and you got to the wires first.

So he dozed, dimly aware of other people coming and going. Someone poked him in the shoulder. Someone nearby. He startled awake with a yelp and spun around in his chair before falling out of it onto the floor. Hard. He winced and closed his eyes.

"Morning, Josh." He looked up to the towering form of CJ in a bright pink jogging outfit. "You look terrible."

Josh frowned and didn't bother to block the throbbing of his tailbone. He directed it right at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Morning."

CJ ran a hand through her wet hair, "And so articulate. 760 verbal, right?" The energy pouring off her could rival Three Mile Island, hot oranges and yellows in jagged bursts.

"You just woke me up out of a dead sleep, what?" Josh said. He was annoyed that she didn't even blink at his pain. Normally, he could at least get a wince out of her.

CJ shrugged. "Endorphins."

"What?"

"You said that out loud, dumbass. You're really dopey this morning, so maybe I'll get an honest answer out of you: why is Donna sleeping on my couch?"

"Huh?"

"Donna. On my couch? I can't change my clothes because Donna's sleeping on my couch."

Josh considered this. "Well, you could change in here. I wouldn't mind." And then with a huff, he gathered his limbs under him and hauled himself to his chair. No point in being graceful, and his right leg was being surprisingly traitorous about supporting his weight. Why? Oh right, running for his life. "Why are you here? Senior staff isn't until 7:30 today." He rubbed at his eyes with his wrists, the band of his watch sliding down his arm.

CJ didn't respond. She tilted her head to get a look at him. "Is there something going on I should know about?"

"About what?" Josh muttered. Maybe he should tell her. He squinted and reached out to poke at her - not that he needed to do it, because she was regular, flatline Claudia Jean. No mutant shapeshifter here.

"You're sleeping on your desk, and Donna is sprawled out on my couch. You know, she's very graceful in real life and I've always envied that, that grace, but she looks like - well, I don't know what she looks like, except that one of her legs is propped up on the top of the couch and the other one is dangling on the floor and at first I thought she was dead."

Josh blinked and tried to follow all that. Giving up, "We were out late." He reached out for Donna - he could always find Donna, even if it was a painful stretch for to find her across the lobby. Her mind was dark and deeply asleep.

CJ raised her eyebrow. "It's traditional to take a girl back to your apartment. And maybe cook breakfast."

"What?" Josh said and then raised his hands and waved. "NO. Not like that. We had a ... thing? Wow, that was weak."

"You're a terrible liar." CJ said, eying him. She sighed and then said, "There's nothing going on, is there? Leo - which is a discussion for another time. I'll get Donna up and tell her you're up."

Josh rubbed the back of his head. "I'm a great liar, and there's nothing going on with me and Donna." He definitely had a lump there. And a scab. "Let her sleep a bit longer. What are you doing here, you never answered."

CJ looked out the window, and took a deep breath. Her mood went airy and light, yellows and pastel blues like a sick spring display. He thought that was her great secret as a Press Secretary. She was really good at feeling the tone she needed for each briefing. "I'm going to re-read everything that Kelly has said and written on mutants. Toby thinks you brainwashed him."

"I wish. Toby's a hypocritical asshole and you can tell him I said that." Josh said, pillowing his arms on his desk. If she left soon he could catch another hour of sleep. Although, if she was going to be digging in files in the bullpen, it wouldn't be restful sleep.

CJ was silent. He was sure she would leave any minute. "Do you ever think about what happened?" Maybe not.

"Do I ever think about what happened at which happening?"

CJ snorted and for a minute, her mood went dark just like Toby. "Ellis Island."

Josh looked at her, the way her frame looked lank but her mind was giving off keen curiosity. He was reminded once again, that he had to be careful about CJ. "You know that I do."

"I've never said this but... I can't imagine what it's like." CJ said, her nails tapping against his desk.

"What what's like?"

CJ shrugged. "Any of it. All of it. Being a mutant, and then dealing with your own grandfather trying to kill you. I can't imagine. I've tried and I've failed to put myself in your shoes over the past three months."

He blinked, and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, dug grit out of the corners and then flicked it away. It bought him time. "He wasn't trying to kill me. He wasn't even trying to kill you. He doesn't care about either of us, which makes it easy for him." He took a deep breath, and then said: "I've had a really crazy life."

"I'll say."

Josh's entire body felt heavy, and he sunk further into his chair. "It's only going to get crazier, isn't it?"

CJ shrugged. "You're just a walking, talking Chinese curse." She laid a heavy hand on his shoulder for a moment and then said, "I'm going to dig around in the cabinets. Get some sleep, Joshua. You'll need it."

***

Margaret was already outside, which meant Leo was undoubtedly in. Josh already knew that, and the steady beat of black and white thoughts coming from inside the door meant he absorbed in the crossword. He was pretty sure that he could pick Leo's distinct emotional patterns out of a crowd of thousands. Still. "Can I go in?"

Margaret shrugged. "He's doing the crossword."

"I know." Josh said, and then: "He always does the crossword."

Margaret shrugged, blue waves lapping around everyone else in the room. He always admired that about her - Margaret was unflappable. He'd miss that. "You can go in," and then she went back to her work.

"Thanks." Josh nodded but she wasn't looking at him anymore. He took a deep breath and then opened the door, closing it behind him. Leo scratched his pen across the crossword and scowled. It wasn't going well for him this morning. He was about to make it a whole lot worse.

"You're here early. And you look like shit, by the way."

Josh shrugged. "I have something to tell you, and it couldn't wait."

"Yeah?" Leo looked up at him.

"Yeah." Josh looked out the window, wondered if this was the last time he'd see the White House grounds from inside the building. Leo had every right to fire him. "I didn't tell you the whole truth about Kelly yesterday."

"I know." Leo said. "You're a crappy liar, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised - but I am - that you dragged Donna into this."

Josh lifted a hand. "Okay. Before you lay into me about that, and you're right about Donna, I never should have ... " He shook his head and refocused. This had nothing to do with Donna, and he should leave her out of this. She wasn't out, and if he covered for her Leo might let her keep her job. "I've been withholding things for a while. Not important things - just, uh, personal things I guess."

"If this is about Donna, Josh, I swear I don't - "

" - What? No. Listen to me please, this is actually important. Senator Kelly's been replaced by a shapeshifting mutant, and I can tell that because of my thing."

Leo's eyes flicked at him from the rim of his glasses. "Yeah."

"No, really. Mutants have different brain patterns than humans do - you can get one of those SHIELD telepaths and have them double check. Kelly didn't really change his mind." Josh looked at the top of his boss's balding head, and bit his lip. Leo's mind was firm and steady. He wasn't taking this seriously and that was a mistake. It was serious. "Senator Kelly is dead, Leo. He got replaced by a terrorist in the Mutant Brotherhood. She came to my house last night and tried to recruit me, and then when I said no, she tried to kill me."

Leo tossed the newspaper away with a scowl and a sudden blast of hot fury. Josh clung to his barriers, trying to deflect it. It was cowardly of him, he deserved to suffer during the final moments of his career. "She tried to kill you?"

"What?" Josh said, confused. That wasn't the question he'd expected. He was so confused he poked a feeler out to test Leo.

"She tried to kill you?" Leo repeated, slowly. He was shocked zings of orange, in a complex pattern of feelings and the underlying thoughts he couldn't really understand.

"Well. She roughed me up, I guess, but you ... you knew already. About Kelly." Josh said, leaning on that feeling and adding a hunch to it. This wasn't going at all like he expected. "You were having me followed. Again." He tilted his head, trying to pick up on every last nuance of what Leo hadn't said aloud. "You mentioned Donna because you got a report from your tail that I was with her all night."

Leo nodded, "Something like that. Are you okay?"

"I lied to you."

Leo looked at him, "An omission."

It would have been so easy to just nod and say yes. Josh couldn't meet his eyes. "No. I lied. I ... scrubbed the security exam during the transition. On purpose. And then again in the Oval Office. I already knew he'd been replaced by a mutant and I didn't tell you." He shifted and the back of his dress shirt tugged against his skin. "It wasn't out of evil, I ... I didn't want people to know I could do that. I'm not my grandfather, but I'm not Joe McCarthy either. I should have told you."

"You think I'd ask you to do that?"

Josh shrugged. "It's a truth to power thing."

"Josh," Leo sighed, "I never needed you to prove your loyalty to me. Not as a mutant and not as a man. You took a bullet for the President and I know you'd do it again." He fixed Josh with his eyes and sent him such a wave of trust and faith that Josh had to swallow to avoid embarrassing himself. "That's what matters. Not the rest of it, that's just details."

"Okay."

Leo kept him pinned with his eyes. "I need you to know that."

Josh broke gaze to play with the strap of his watch. Something hot was burning in his chest, and he pushed it down tightly into a ball, way far down so that Leo couldn't feel it too. "How'd you know that Kelly was replaced."

"I play on a different level than you do."

Josh tried not to think too much about planes on Bermuda airstrips. He couldn't imagine the information Leo was working with - and not for the first time, wasn't sure he ever wanted to know. "Yeah."

"We're good?" Leo asked after a moment, turning back to his crossword.

Josh took a deep breath, "I thought you were going to fire me."

Leo snorted, "Funny thing about that, Josh, you never think I'm gonna fire you on the days I'm most sorely tempted to do so." He clicked his pen and filled in a letter. "Get out already."

***


	8. The Monkey Cage

4:15 PM  
The Triskelion  
Undisclosed Location

It creeped Josh out. It was worse than he had expected, in unpredictable ways. The guards frisked him with magnet wands and then forced him to change into paper hospital slippers when the metal brads on his tennis shoes failed to pass muster. He could see the clear plastic prison from the observation window and tried not to wince. Bad enough to go to a regular prison made out of harsh cement walls - he hated cement walls, all the emotions and noises bouncing off endlessly in a mass of confusion. But this plastic one: there was no there, there.

Of course, Josh's grandfather knew he was coming before he stepped out onto the platform. Josh could feel his mental thrumming as they searched him, far louder than the interest that the guards were displaying.

Josh cleared his throat. "I was surprised I was on the list."

"I'm surprised you came." His grandfather didn't bother to get off the bed or look up from his worn paperback of Genosha.

If it wasn't so creepy, it could have been nice. The plastic chess set, the table, the stack of reading material. Of course, he knew how much everything had cost. He'd seen the reports from the Attorney General, the cost per day of keeping the facility open and the projected lifetime expense. "Yeah. Me too."

His grandfather raised an eyebrow, yellow rays of curiosity seeping out in a noticeable way. He had forgotten the polite, formal... controlled way his grandfather was always so cordial to telepaths and empaths, giving them just what they needed and nothing they didn't. He was a great conversationalist in more ways than one. "Why did you come? You've certainly got enough guilt for both of us, you don't need admonishing from me for any more."

Josh shrugged it off. "We have unfinished business. It didn't bother you that I was at that UN meeting?"

"It wouldn't have harmed you or Donna," his grandfather said, and flipped another page. "Nor any other mutant there."

Josh folded his leg and looked out at a cement wall. "The President? Leo McGarry? Toby Ziegler?"

"Humans," he dismissed.

"Toby Ziegler - " Josh started and then shook his head. He had saved Josh's life. He had spent a month trying to argue with White House Council, the Attorney General and anyone who would listen that Erik Lensherr deserved a legal trial, and when that failed, he argued for criminal insanity, afraid that his grandfather would be disappeared. "You know, all those humans want to know why I never visit. All of them. Even the ones who aren't that comfortable with the idea."

"And what do you tell them?"

Josh ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, and wondered what they would have done if he had fillings. "I don't."

His grandfather raised a sweep of elegant eyebrow, and closed the book. "What kind of an answer is that?"

Josh looked down at his hands, and swore he could still feel the scraping scales of his grandfather's secret agent. "An honest one." He took a breath. "They'd rather I took after you, ah, without the mass murder." He felt his cheeks quirking, instantly knowing his error but continued, "They're liberals. They admire the pantheon of great civil rights leaders, even Malcolm X, and I disappoint them because I'm not one." 

His grandfather was very pleased and didn't try to hide it, from the curl at the edge of his lip to the bottom of his cerebellum. "And they think I'm a great civil rights leader?"

"No," Josh lied, instantly. He was sure some of them did, even after Ellis Island. There were, after all, so many things to think about his grandfather: a survivor of the Holocaust. A former agent of the IDF and CIA. A civil rights leader who marched openly when no one else would, in those ridiculous capes. The man who tried to murder the entire UN. "They think you tried to use a teenage girl as a weapon of mass destruction." 

His grandfather, Magneto, smiled at him along with a wave of the most vibrant green. He couldn't imagine remembering a green so deep in a place like this. 

"Cages, my boy, are never as bad as the ones we make for ourselves. You would know that if you let yourself out some time." He tapped the side of his head, and then began to laugh.

***

"Hey."

"Hey, what're you still doing here?" Will Bailey was hunched over his desk in the office that Josh privately still thought of as Sam's, even months later. How many months had it been? It felt like years, some days.

Will looked up from his folder. "Catching up on this dolphin thing. You know, I never thought of myself as a 'Save the Whales' guy before today."

Josh snorted and said, "Sure it has nothing to do with some kind of Navy-Air Force thing?"

"Never miss an opportunity to make the squids look bad," Will said, a pleased smile on his face as he closed it and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Josh nodded, "Right." He respected the military, but the reminder was a gulf that he'd never bridge. He didn't get the whole duty/honor thing - of course, he never would have had the chance. The military discharged mutants when they found them. Untrustworthy. Unsuited for duty. Unless, of course, they were mutants created by man. 

Will leaned his head forward and says, "You need something?"

Josh opened his mouth. Closed it. He'd never been good with words, really. Not like Sam or Will. He swallowed and said, "You've been here a while, right?"

Will furrowed his brows in mock confusion, "Couple of months... more like six. Why, have you just noticed?"

Josh shook his head. "No. No. _No._"

"Okay, then mind if I ask why you're hugging my door frame like you want to ask it for dinner and a movie?" Will asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose and folding his hands over the open folder.

"Toby..." Josh said, and then frowned. "Toby actually has nothing to do with this, forget I said that. Mutants in the armed forces. You're for it, or against it?"

Will frowned again, and said, "I know you all just survived yet another attempt on your lives, but... Is this about earlier? I already got the riot act from Toby. Is the administration, I mean, are we going to be pursuing mutant civil rights in the near future? Is this another litmus test?"

Josh answered the questions. "No. We just won re-election by a huge margin, but you've seen the polling data, the country's not ready for that yet. And if you agree, or don't agree, I'll never tell Leo or the President. This is just between you and me." He opened a bit, despite every instinct in his body telling him not to peek. Will was surprisingly anxious, which made him smile a bit. He hoped it seemed reassuring.

Will lifted his hands and said, "I'm undecided, really. I'm not a bigot, I just don't know any mutants personally. That I know of, anyway. I do think it's unlikely we're ever going to crack the Super Soldier Serum formula, so why not recruit the already gifted? China does, Russia does, and it doesn't seem to hurt them."

"They have special units..." Josh said, finding himself wanting to argue the other side on its merits.

Will shrugged and said, "And we could too, but the United States military can also be a great force for democracy - here and abroad. If we're going to do it, we should do it right."

Josh nodded and said, "That's all I wanted." And then he turned to go and realized... he still hadn't done it. He turned back around, "Except. You do."

Will blinked and said, "I do? I do what?"

"Know mutants. I'm a mutant," Josh said, softly, hand brushing his tie. He had to force himself not to turn around and see if anyone else was lingering in the halls. It was easier to use his powers to reassure him on that matter too, even if he didn't want to know Will's reaction. "That's the thing I came to say."

The speechwriter looked him up and down and blurted, "No. I thought you'd be - blue!" 

Josh laughed and said, "We get that a lot." And then he looked around one more time and said, "We're still cool, right?"

"Josh, I'm pretty sure that you'll still be here on the day that President Bartlet tosses me out with the garbage," Will said, curious yellows mingling with darker colors he was trying to resolve. Josh hoped that they were about how insecure he felt, and not about him, but this was already uncomfortable enough. Toby might be pissed he hadn't shared the whole truth, but let Will sit on it for a while... Josh thought he'd still be around, he could learn the rest of it in time.

He nodded and said, "Cool. Let me know how the Carrick thing goes." 

He thumped the door with his palm and then whirled off through the halls towards the bullpen. It was well after eleven PM, and even the stragglers were starting to go home. Donna looked up from her computer and asked, "So. How'd it go?"

"How'd what go?"

"You and your... grandfather. You have a terrible poker face, you know." Her green eyes peered at him from over the top of her coffee cup and he could feel her picking at his shields, so he let them down a little. 

"Fine."

"You have a terrible poker face. And a sensitive system."

"So you've claimed, but it really was fine." Josh said, a nervous chuckle punctuating it. Behind him, Donna got up and padded after him, a swirl of static accompanying her boundless worry and compassion. She must have slipped her heels off at some point in the evening. 

"In fact, sometimes you're even a little nuts."

Josh looked over at Donna. "How many cute phrases are you planning on coining to discuss my real problem?"

Donna rolled her eyes, "There aren't enough cute phrases in the world for all your problems."

"God, that's true," he muttered.

"Not to make this caper sound any more like a cheap action flick than it already was, but how did you know she wasn't me?"

"Hm?"

"She uh, tried to come on to me." Josh said as he shuffled through the sections of the afternoon's wires. "She tried to come on to me in a slinky dress. You'd never do that. We don't have that kind of a ... " Josh shrugged and trailed off, but looked up at her cautiously from his folder. She was just looking at him, inscrutably. Josh suddenly realized how lonely she was, because not all of that smokey grey blotting out everything else could be him. 

"Oh," Donna said, and gripped coffee mug so tightly he could feel the stress on her knuckles.

"And I know you better than that. You would have worn red. She wore blue and you hate blue. You're not so desperate that, failing in another of your attempts to sleep through the ranks of middle-aged Republican featherweights you'd come cat around my apartment."

Donna dryly raised an eyebrow, "Was there a compliment somewhere in there?"

"I'm sure." Josh said. "Would you get me some of that?"

"No." Donna said, broadcasting an overly bright blue as she tipped her mug over, soaking the pages of Josh's wire reports. Some of the splashback hit his face, and as he tipped the folder in his hands, slid off and down into his shoes. At least it was cold!

He gasped, looked up at her and said, "That was for desperate?"

"Middle-aged Republican featherweights." Donna slunk back out into the hallway and said, "I'd look great in blue. Stay right there, I'll call Jerry to clean that up."

Josh looked down at his squelchy shoes and smiled. She would have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.
> 
> Thanks for those who followed this story on its nearly decade in-progress status.


End file.
